Blood Games
by Eddiegirl94
Summary: Isabella Swan, a loner of  avampire has found her new toy. Edward A. Cullen has unfortunately caught her attention. He thinks he's beautiful, and she wants to play. Not too dark.
1. Chapter 1

Vampire: [vam-pahyuhr]

–noun

1. a person who preys ruthlessly upon others; extortionist.

She would have him. She didn't want to kill him. No. Not yet. He would be her new play thing. She would get so very bored after so long. She was alone. She didn't need anyone, she could fend for herself. The thought of needing a defender made her laugh. She was a loner in every sense of the word. What purpose could she possibly have in getting someone to be with her. Be like her. She needed nor wanted anyone. They wanted her. Of course they did. It was part of the deal. Wrong word perhaps. Deal makes it sound as though she received something for this life? She received nothing but a one-way ticket to hell. Yes, she can live forever, but it's not meant to be that way for a reason. The longer you live- if it's living- the more death you see, the more death you _cause._ Though, she didn't mind the latter part. She made it a game. A game of life and death. Literally.

She always had fun with them. Most didn't last long. Well, all but one never lasted past the night they were unlucky enough to be noticed by her. _He_, however, captivated her. She couldn't end the game. She refused to let it happen. She liked him. She had studied him. She knew everything. His name, birth date, family schooling, address, hometown, everything. She kept it profiled in her head. She knew, as well, that he wasn't ready for her yet. She needed to be patient with him. He'd be a sensitive one she believed. But she liked that, it made the game all the more interesting. But she couldn't wait forever, just for him. So, in the meantime, she found another man. A stand in, if you will. A mister Michael Newton. Age 22, new to Seattle, junior in the University of Washington, and relentless frat boy stereotype. Easy enough. He wasn't completely appalling, as most of the mean from his house were. They idiotically tainted themselves with alcohol and drugs. Why that was, was beyond her. She didn't understand the workings of their minds and it bothered her. She understood everything. Everything except for these ridiculous frat boys and the one man she was after. She followed Mike into the house that was vibrating with the bass of the stereo. The music was revolting, as were half of the boys and girls in the room. Common decency had been lost with the years, obviously. She new it was a summer break party, she had heard some of the students talking of it. Normal enough. Someone disappears during the party, never ound again., Happens all the time, never suspected.

She saw him now leaning up against the wall, alone and brooding. Perfect. She sauntered over slowly, grabbing his attention. He attempted to look sexy with his smile. _Sleazy_, popped into her mind instead.

"Hi, gorgeous," he greeted holding his hand out. _Lord, I hope he doesn't sincerely believe that works._ She internally rolled her eyes. She unleashed a full, fake- though he couldn't tell, no one could- and took his hand in her, and keeping it.

"Hi," she replied sweetly. This should go fast enough.

"You dance, sweet thing?"

"She made her beautiful features look shy and embarrassed. "I can't dance."

He chuckled. "Of course you can. Come on, just stick with me."

He attempted to grab her but she lifted her arm at the same time, knocking his half empty cup onto him and down his shirt. Perfect, as usual. She pretended to look sorry. Of course she wasn't sorry. "Oh, dear, no! I'm so, so sorry. I'm way to clumsy. It's just… I like you.. And I really did want to dance-"

"Hey, hey. It's alright. I'll just go try to clean this up. It's my roommates shirt anyways. No harm done." She knew it was his roommate's shirt. It smelled like _him_. It was a lot of harm done. The poor shirt.

"I can help," she said quietly, looking up at him through her lashes. She knew what the look did. It never failed. She followed him up the stairs and into one of the bathrooms. Shutting and locking the door behind her, she turned towards Mike, who had a smug smile on his face. _Too bad _I'm_ the one getting lucky tonight._ She walked up to him slyly and reached for the buttons on his shirt. He watched her, smile stuck in palce, putting his hands on her hips and squeezing. She smirked and finished the last of the buttons, setting the shirt over the basin. She had to keep that shirt safe. She was keeping it. We can't have this stupid boy ruining it any further.

She tilted her head and moved her lips to his. The kiss was slow, simple. As he tried to deepen it, she let him, but only for a few moments. She pulled away and descended on his neck, grazing her lips lightly up and down his bare throat. He moaned gruffly, and grabbed her hair, holding her there. _Idiot._ She put her three longest fingers over his lips, he didn't notice too much. He'd never think it'd be to keep his screams in his mouth where they belong. She smiled against his neck, nipping lightly.

"Harder," he moaned. She chuckled darkly. _If you say so._ And harder she bit. Through his skin to the beautiful artery pounding wetly in his neck. He gasped, trying to gather enough oxygen to scream, but her fingers pushed harder, and he was kept silent. She drank slowly, enjoying his whimpers, perhaps too much. But who exactly was going to judge her? No one but herself. She felt him slipping toward the floor, but she help him close until she finished. As the last drop hit her tongue, she threw him down onto the floor. How to make this one look better…

She open the oddly large window and picked the lifeless boy back up. Checking, and finding the lack of witnesses to her liking, she chuck him easily out the window. _Poor, Mike,_ she thought,_ was jus too sad to go on living. Wonder if his roommate will be heartbroken… _Her thoughts drifted back to the man she was waiting for. He would be a challenge, but she liked that. These simple kills were just so boring, and she wanted someone to test her. She'd keep him around for a while, she was sure of it. She walked back down the stairs quietly, after cleaning herself up. His shirt was tucked safely in her jacket pocket. He was here. At this party. She could smell him. She turned towards the kitchen. He was laughing with his brother. Emmett, she had found out. She smirked towards him and gripped his clothing in her hand. _You're next, sweetheart._

**So, please, please tell me what you think! If you guys say it's worth continuing, the next chapter should be up in a couple days!: )**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry guys, my computer's been down. But in the meantime I've gotten quite I few chapters done, just waiting to be uploaded. : ) Enjoy!**

** Disclaimer: If I owned them, I would **_**not **_**be just sitting here..**

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It was tines like these she never understood humans. Granted, she had been one once, but the blur constricting her memory was too much. Though it didn't matter- she didn't _want_ to remember- she was curious as to how their brains were working. _His_ girlfriend is, for lack of better terms, whining about a new restaurant they're not going to. No… correct that. A new restaurant they _weren't_ going to. Pity. She thought he was too strong-willed for something as pathetic as dining choice.

Of course, if she had to constantly have her ears assaulted by that girl's voice, she'd give into her, too. Rosalie Hale. Age 22, born to Seattle- and Lillian hale, Junior at University of Washington- one of the only girls in serious study for engineering and three year girlfriend to Edward Cullen.

She watched silently as Edward rolled his eyes behind Rosalie's back, and held open the dorm door. She was perched lightly on a high branch in the tree adjacent from his dorm's window. Michael had been discovered two weeks ago, but no one had yet to sort his belongings. Bella believed they should all just be done away with. They held no value.

Bella waited a while; she would let them get a bit ahead of her. It's not as if she'll have trouble catching up.

She studied the scattered picture frames on Edward's desk and nightstand. She, of coursed, already knew the people in the photos. His family and friends, all already profiled in her fast-acting mind. But they made her curious about her own family. They weren't alive any longer, obviously. Her father Charles Swan, and mother, Renee Swan.

They had met while Charles was almost off to fight in his first war. The war itself had been harsh on their town, half of the men already gone to fight, most of them probably dead. He was eating at The Dashing Diner- his farewell meal courtesy of his fellow solider friends- when Miss. Renee Willard stepped in, followed closely by Mary Anne and Patricia. Mary Anne, Renee's sister and closest friend, ran a judgmental eye across the room, never pausing on anything. Renee started her own scan. Her eyes, however, did stop, on a young, handsome solider who was staring right back at her.

And so began the long legacy of the Swan family. It started with little Isabella Swan, who was soon followed by a charming little boy, her brother. Bella couldn't remember much of her childhood, but she knew in the bits and pieces she kept safe in her mind, that she and her brother were inseparable. It had killed her to leave them. Bella couldn't remember anything from that day, if it was that long. She knew she had been nineteen, and the year 1933. She also knew it devastated her to leave her brother. She knew no reasons why, just that she adored him.

She was never completely gone; she always had an eye out for him. She kept to the forest, and took to staying in old abandoned warehouses, before they were all re-opened for the next war. Pitiful. That's how she saw herself. She stalked and killed while her family was growing and loving.

Jonathan, her sibling, soon found a wife, and even sooner was expecting a child. He rounded his children out at three: Andrew, William and Isabelle. If Bella could cry, she would've balled at his jester.

Bella continued to watch, telling herself they needed her protection. She stood by as her nieces and nephews married and had children of their own. They had a cumulative of seven children between them. Four boys: Peter, William Jr., Mark and Anthony; and three girls: Andrea, Catherine and Abigail.

It repeated with her great-nieces and great-nephews and so on. At present, she watched as her great-great-great-family carried her name, much like she wished she could. Bella was too fond of this generation; they didn't respect their name as they should, they take it for granted. All of them but on, Bella's favorite niece of this set. Her sweet little Alice. Alice was the fourth generation of Isabelle's descendants. Isabelle had always been Bella's favorite, as well. She may or may not have been biased according to naming.

Alice Brandon was a danger to her. Not physically, no. Though it could easily end up that way for Bella. Alice loved history. More importantly, she loved her _family's_ history.

And Bella knew, from a close watch, that Alice had seen her picture in an old photo book. Dated 1922. Her face had not changed; excuse her eyes, from that photo. He niece she loved dearly would get her killed if she was not careful.


End file.
